Resonance
by CG SPAR
Summary: Steve's a complex character, more so then people give him credit for sometimes. A set of vingettes from various people's points of view, from various times in his life, and varying from pre-slash Danny/Steve to possibly more fullblown later.
1. Diminuendo

_**His pain is evident in every line of his lean body . Danny.**_

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><p>The soft, haunting sounds of a guitar drift on the breeze as Danny slides out from the Camaro's low-slung bucket seats, but he dismisses them out of hand. He has more important things to worry about, like Steve.<p>

The case they'd wrapped up today had hit the Commander pretty hard. The body of an older man in his mid forties had washed up on the beach early in the morning yesterday, and Five-O had gotten mixed up in it because when the autopsy was all said and done with, it linked back to the massive drug case they'd been working for the past month. The slugs Max pulled from the body had been a dead perfect match for those of the other deaths involved with the cartel crime, and it frustrated Steve and the team. So much so that once they'd ID'd the stiff, they'd immediately dived into looking at all of his connections, all of his possible reasons for death at the cartel's hands, and forgotten to check out the family or let them know.

The man, while completely unaffiliated with the cartel in any way and just an unlucky guy caught in the crossfire, had surprisingly helped Five-O to make the connections they needed, and this morning they'd gone in typical McGarrett style. Meaning he'd charged in head first while Danny ran after watching his back, and Chin and Kono were their typical badass selves. The leader of the drug ring had escaped, but the rest of the motley crew had gone down hard. Several with a perfect double tap to the chest, courtesy of SuperSEAL.

It was only after when they came back to HQ and found the deceased's file still up on the screen did Steve and Danny remember they'd never made the house call. The next of kin and only living relative of their departed puzzle piece was his sixteen-year-old son. And that was when Danny knew shit was about to hit the fan. He'd watched McGarrett swallow hard and look away, and seen the familiar look of pain ghost across his boss's face before he could smooth it back into a mask of impassivity. He'd roughly urged Danny out the door and slid into the driver's seat, Danny handing him the Camaro's keys without a fight.

Usually the tension bled out of the taller man as he drove with reckless abandon down the Hawaiian roads, but not today. It had struck a cord within McGarrett, this poor orphaned son, and it was not going to let him go. For the first time since Danny had met Steve, the blond was genuinely worried for the other man's safety. He'd long since learned to trust Steve when it came to firefights and combat, despite his penchant for rushing off half-cocked, but the man was emotionally stunted. He didn't know how to work off this frustration and anger and angst and pain without guns and fists and blood.

And then the broken look on the vulnerable teenager's face had sealed the deal.

Steve had disappeared once they'd taken care of the last loose ends and the orphan, and Danny and the team hadn't seen him since. Hadn't had a chance to offer to drive him home or to get him a beer. The SEAL had just simply vanished. That was four hours ago.

After those four hours of fruitless searching, Danny had finally asked Chin to track Steve's cell phone, and it had placed him at his home. His father's home. Oh geez. Danny prayed he wouldn't have to deal with a broken, figuratively or literally, boss when he got there.

Danny picks his way across the front lawn and then up to the house, letting himself in with the key he'd gotten from Steve a long time ago, so long ago he couldn't even remember. The door wasn't locked, but then, SuperSEALs didn't really need to lock their doors. As Danny makes his way from room to room, the soft strands of music became gradually louder. The detective pauses for a minute, cocking his head to listen.

The musician has some serious talent, that was to be noted, but it was the music itself that catches Danny's attention. It has a melancholy feel to it, a haunting chord that reverberates in his very bones. The composer's agony is palpable in each note that hangs in the air.

After ascertaining that Steve was not in fact in any room of the house, Danny moves out towards the back door, but pauses as he caught sight of his boss tucked in the corner of the lanai, facing out to the ocean. He cradles a worn guitar on his lap, hunching over it like a man trying to hide from something. His pain is evident in every line of his lean body, but his hands are graceful as they sweep up and down the strings of the guitar. Danny swallows hard.

He knows that the dark haired man had heard the screen door slam quietly behind him, but Steve gives no indication that he's heard, not even glancing up from where he stares out into the sea. Danny sighs, and crosses the last few feet between him and his partner, sliding down to sit beside the taller man.

"Life sucks sometimes." Danny says quietly after a moment, sensing that Steve really doesn't need to hear a rant about lunatic SEALs and crazy partners who went haring off on their own without so much as a by your leave. He just needs to know that Danny is there. And he is. And he always will be, for Steve. Gun toting, grenade carrying, self-preservation lacking Steve McGarrett. He's not really sure when he became so attached to the big SEAL, but somewhere along the line he did. And Danny now can't ever imagine his life without Steve in it, right by his side, explosives and all.

That's what you do, when you're partners.

The music peters out after a few more minutes, before Steve sighs and carefully, oh so carefully, lays the beaten and battered instrument down on the lanai behind him. "What're you doing here Danny?" He asks quietly. Danny just blinks at him, and doesn't say a word. A small half smile creases the bigger man's face, and he cautiously lays his hand down on top of Danny's looking up to meet widening blue eyes, and then ducks his head, embarrassed.

Danny says nothing, just turns his palm up to touch Steve's, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance before turning back to face the sun setting over the sea.

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><p>Note: I entirely blame the movie August Rush, and this picture. http:  images2 . fanpop . com/images/photos/2900000/Alex-O-Loughlin-August-Rush-alex-oloughlin-2984629-350-600. jpg


	2. Dissonance

_**This is a side of his friend and boss he never knew exists. Nick Taylor.**_

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><p>Nick knows that after something like this, he really shouldn't be going to try to find his commanding officer, but he really needs McGarrett's input on their stock of supplies. They're running low on ammunition for one thing, and since the Enterprise won't be coming back to get them for another day, they're stuck. They can easily live off the land, seeing as it is a jungle and they're highly trained operatives, but nevertheless. He is duty bound to alert his commanding officer as the executive officer.<p>

He finds McGarrett perched on a branch high enough off the ground that he can survey the area around them relatively unobstructed, but low enough that there's enough coverage to keep him camouflaged against the searching eye. If Nick hadn't known exactly which tree Steve was in, he'd have walked right past.

The hawk eyed Commander doesn't miss a thing, Nick knows, so he's aware that Nick's down below him and is instead choosing to ignore said fact. In McGarrett-world he'd probably be breaking some sort of sacred creed if he acknowledged his XO. But then, McGarrett always was the epitome of a prepared and watchful SEAL.

But right now, Steve is frightfully angry, and struggling to hide it. They've been recalled before being able to finish their mission, and have been expressly forbidden from finishing their mission before being pulled from the warzone. And it's based on the fact that the dictator they've been sent to dispatch made some sort of offering to the government, and they'd decided he was worth more alive.

So the childkiller and destroyer of entire villages got to live. And naturally, Steve Must-Protect-The-Fucking-Entire-World McGarrett had his panties in a twist because he couldn't save everyone. The rest of the team was treading lightly. Nick takes a deep breath and opens his mouth. "Sir?"

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><p>They're back onboard the Enterprise now, so Nick no longer feels like he has to keep a careful eye on the Commander to make sure he doesn't go running off to kill the fucking bastard any way, not that he'd really be able to stop him. The rest of the team liked to joke about how they could take McGarrett down if the need came for it because the impulsive SEAL was out of control, but Nick knows deep down it would probably take all three of them. He's never seen anyone quite like McGarrett.<p>

He is death personified sometimes, the speed at which he can whip through and deal out fatal blows to enemies astounding. He's the epitome of what a SEAL should be, just with a knack for diving in with only a half-cocked plan. As his XO, Nick likes to think he balances that out. But right now he still feels obligated to go and check up on Steve. While he knows very well Lt Rollins is aboard the Enterprise and they have some sort of friends with benefits thing, not all that uncommon considering, he's not sure that his boss would go to her.

If he knows Steve, he'd feel like he was doing her a disservice by inflicting himself upon her in the mood he was in. They're all that way. The way BUDS works, most guys pick up or teach themselves that they should internalize things, keep them to themselves for fear of showing weakness. It's a common failing among Special Operations Forces, and Nick knows he's no exception. It drives his girlfriend nuts.

There's the sound of a guitar drifting down the corridors of the aircraft carrier, but the SEAL ignores them. It's nothing new. It's honestly amazing how many people aboard one play, even with a crew of five thousand. A ton of the officers learned how at Annapolis since sometimes there was nothing do and they couldn't leave base, and others learned when they were going through bad boy phases in high school. It's rare that there isn't a guitar playing somewhere onboard if he's being honest.

Nick just isn't used to paying them any mind.

As he steps through a hatch and turns the corner to go down a flight towards the SEALs' berthing, he cocks his head to the side, as the music gets loud. It's angry – dangerous sounding. The riffs are dark and foreboding sounding, like the player is just wailing on the strings in an attempt to wring every last bit of an emotion from them and themselves. Nick smiles grimly. Nothing new there.

What is new however is the player of the guitar. Nick pauses in the hatchway of his commanding officer's stateroom, watching Steve on his perch on the rack. His legs are crossed beneath him, and all of his laser like intensity focus is on the battered acoustic guitar cradled in his hands. His fingers are flying across the neck, an intent and vaguely dangerous look on his face.

Nick is taken aback. He never knew that his friend played the guitar, or that he was so amazing at it. There is real talent hidden beneath the gun calloused fingers, and Nick can see some of the tension bleeding out of Steve's shoulders as he watches, and the music lightens slightly, no longer the pounding, jarring riffs that reverberate through his body like a dissonant chord. This is a side of his friend and boss he never knew exists.

It makes him more human in a way Nick thinks. Sometimes it's easy to forget that Steve's not actually just a Super SEAL robot who takes out the bad guys and then shuts down until he's needed again. That whipcord tight rigidity that was only moments ago present in Steve's body is gone now, replaced by a sense of serenity that Nick would never have expected from him.

"Comfortable?" Steve's voice drawls from across the room, shaking Nick from his reverie. Nick swallows. Of course Steve knew he was there the whole time. Sometimes his senses are simply frightening, and he often wonders what kind of childhood Steve had to make him turn out the way he did. It must have a taken a very special family to create him, and a very unique home. He's never asked his CO where he calls home, and the inflections Steve sometimes puts on his words is unfamiliar to him. But that's personal, and if there's one line Nick learned long ago never to cross, it was to try and mix McGarrett's personal and professional lives.

"Came looking to make sure you were alright boss." Nick says, not mentioning the guitar, despite his overwhelming curiosity. Some things are just better left unsaid.

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><p>So I'd originally intended for Diminuendo to be a stand alone piece, but the idea kind of grabbed me about how nobody would really expect McGarrett to play the guitar, and it would probably have been a long constant in his life. So this little piece popped in my head. There may or may not be more, but they'll come as they please.<p> 


End file.
